Play Again
by theshukri
Summary: It takes but one button, followed by a couple of clicks, to open the game. It takes but a few seconds, to become addicted. Because seriously, everyone knows this stuff is serious business. DRABBLE-like, oneshot, humour.


******PLAY AGAIN  
**_adeusparaiso  
__september 2010

* * *

_

The whole thing started off with his little niece. Apparently, she had gone on for hours playing this stupid game, and quite frankly, he was damn well curious as to what was so good about it to keep a thirteen year old interested for so long. Needless to say, the damn thing was on _every single computer_, so all he had to do was go home, sit at his table, turn on his laptop, and wait for it to load.

With that done, now he had to find the game. Mind… Sweeper… That was the name, apparently. Such a strange name for a game with bombs and what not. Hmm, maybe this game was a sort of prophecy about the terrorists in this day and age? After all, weren't those terrorist's brainwashed in the first place by some manipulative asshole to go blow themselves up? And bombs! The game had bombs too! This explains everything! The game's an American conspiracy!

Cough. Cough. So now he'd found it. And clicked it. He studied the little field of squares, raising an eyebrow at the different layout from the one his niece had played. Well, shit. He didn't think his laptop being Vista would change anything. Crap, maybe he should have stuck to XP while he could - at least then he'd get that damn cool smiley with the sunglasses at the top. But oh well, this one was pretty cool too, all sleek and blue and shit. At the bottom was how many squares he'd cleared, which at the moment read a depressing 0, the other side reading how many _bombs _there were, 10. Gee, so he had 10 terrorists to deal with; and he was the… The… American… Eh, S.W.A.T. team or something? Whichever one dealt with terrorists.

Wait, why American? They sucked. British MI6 for the win. Actually, S.A.S probably? You know, the team that was in Call Of Duty 4; Modern Warfare. Now they were bad ass. Epically bad ass.

But back to the game. Honestly, his mind was wondering today wasn't it? Quickly, his mind came to the agreement that this was serious business, and so he should fully well prepare himself before starting. Standing up from his chair, he went to the kitchen and opened the fridge; grabbing himself some random energy drink off the shelf. As long as it wasn't pineapple flavour he was more then happy. Settling himself back into the chair, his right hand began combing through his dirty blonde hair, a sigh escaping him. Five gulps later of the energy drink, and he figured he was ready.

Good.

So. Click number one. Apparently, he had to click a random square. By doing so, it would reveal whether he was in the clear or not. Simple? Simple. First off, technique! And his technique was pure win. It was simple; attack from the outer region and move inwards. Surround the enemy! And so, he began with the bottom left corner. Click. Clear. _Sigh_, oh wait. The little tell-thing of how many bombs he'd cleared… That was a timer… Well shit! He'd been doing this damn thing for 420 seconds already! Well… 700 seconds now… Crap, he must've blanked out or something.

He did that a lot. Blank out that is. Wait, what?

So anyway, the bottom right corner had loads of free squares. Because he was awesome like that. Oh yeah. With that in mind, his mouse began hovering to the top right corner, and after much deliberation clicked it. Oh yeah, another epic score. He's good like that. Yeeeah, he's good like that. But now he had to carry on, didn't he? The next click and-

- OH SHIT. TERRORIST EXPLOSION. MAY DAY, MAY DAY, MAY DAY-

Ah. Wait. This isn't real. Cough, cough.

Clicking the "Play Again" button, he got a new square grid ready, and began playing once more. Unknowingly, he kept playing for three hours - in the beginning level only - and had finished his energy drink two hours ago.

Experimentally, he pressed the square furthest to the right side, letting out a sigh as it didn't reveal no damn bombs. This meant only the bottom right side was left - damn, this was always where he bloody well lost - but like hell he would cowardly shake in fear from it. He would take it on like a man! LIKE THE MAN THAT HE WAS! And thus, with his mouse hovering over a particular square, he took a deep breath.

He clicked it.

And swore.

* * *

don't ask. just... don't. ._.

_~adeusparaiso_


End file.
